


A Pretty Good Start

by CakeMoney



Series: What Is Love (Single Dads AU) [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 21:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11216646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CakeMoney/pseuds/CakeMoney
Summary: Takes place before Take Your TimeTakahiro exhales. Maybe it’s a teacher thing, or the fact that Matsukawa actually looks like he has his life together, but it sounds so convincing from him. “I’m so lucky I have you,” he says, grinning.“I aim to please, darling,” Matsukawa shoots back with a straight face.Alternate Title: Kindaichi Protection Squad





	A Pretty Good Start

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me!!!! Writing again within two weeks!!!!! I still have no idea how to title things!!!!!!!!!! THANKS [LOMEKI](http://lomeki.tumblr.com) WITHOUT YOU I WOULD STILL BE SCREAMING UNDER THE DESK
> 
> In other news, I just want to briefly address the series as a whole: I know it looks like the fics are ordered in a stupid way, but 1. The stories _can_ be read in any order, but it's more or less designed to be read in the series order, and 2. With that being said, I do try to make sure that each fic stands on its own and that you have the necessary information to understand what's going on
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

As Takahiro sprints over the crowded sidewalk, dodging clumps of people and apologizing over his shoulder, he mentally repeats a litany of _don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic oh my God what if Akira’s alone don’t panic what if someone kidnapped him what if he’s lost what if he thinks I forgot him don’t panic don’t panic holy_ shit _Yukie’s going to kill me herself_ —

When he gets to the kindergarten, however, the situation is far from that dire. Akira is dozing off, head propped in his hands, his tiny yellow hat slipping over his face. There’s another boy there, with hair so tall that he’s somehow lifting the hat off his head entirely, kicking a pebble around. The teacher, with curly black hair and a cute green apron and eyes that scream _I’m so fucking tired_ , sits between them. All three startle at Takahiro’s appearance, especially when he barely gasps out a “I’m so sorry” before he’s doubled over, out of breath.

“You must be Akira’s father,” the teacher says, calm, absolutely no reproach in his voice. “I’m Matsukawa Issei, his teacher.”

“Hanamaki Takahiro, pleasure,” Takahiro replies, then repeats: “I’m so sorry, I had to work late, and then my boss wanted to talk about something, and then I had to—”

Akira blinks awake then; he looks like an adorable, sleepy child for half a second before his eyes focus on him. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour,” he complains, holding out his arms.

Takahiro picks him up and lets him smack him a little, overwhelmed with relief. “I’m so sorry, Akira-chan,” he says as Akira pouts at him. “I promise I won’t do it again. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” He gives Matsukawa a half-bow. “Thank you for looking after him.”

Matsukawa stands, dusting off the back of his pants. “Of course. It’s no trouble. Goodbye, Akira-chan.”

Akira waves. “Bye, Issei-sensei.” He looks down at the other kid, who’s also standing. “Bye, Yuu-chan.”

(“Are you friends with Yuu-chan?” Takahiro asks, a few blocks later, after he lets Akira smack him a couple more times and buys him his favorite sweets; Akira tucks his head into Takahiro’s shoulder and replies with a disgruntled “I _guess_.”)

 

* * *

 

It’s only a couple days later when Takahiro catches sight of Matsukawa in the subway station. Matsukawa looks practically asleep on his feet, and Takahiro’s carrying a napping Akira and has no energy for smalltalk, so Takahiro was about to turn away when he sees the kid holding Matsukawa’s hand.

Huh. There’s clearly no resemblance between Matsukawa and Yuu-chan, but—

“Good evening, Matsukawa-sensei,” Takahiro calls as he approaches (Matsukawa jerks awake, blinking quickly). He looks at the boy again. “Yuu-chan, right?”

The boy beams up at him as Matsukawa forces a smile and rubs his eyes. “Yes, this is Yuutarou.” He pauses for a split second—Takahiro almost asks—before he adds: “He’s my son.”

Takahiro nods, crouches down to introduce himself. “Hi, Yuutarou-kun. I’m Akira’s dad. Akira says you’re friends?”

Yuutarou’s eyes light up. “Yes!” he almost shouts. Akira stirs, grumbles, as though he already knows he’s being talked about. “Akira-chan’s the best!”

Takahiro blinks, surprised. He has no doubt that Akira’s a good kid, but he also knows that Akira doesn’t tend to get along with other kids. This—is news. “That’s great,” he says, a smile breaking across his face. There’s a surge of pride and warmth in his chest. “I’m glad.” He looks up at Matsukawa. “I hope Akira’s not too much trouble in class.”

Matsukawa chuckles. “Not at all. He’s a very well-behaved child.” The way he says that— _well-behaved child_ —makes Takahiro wonder if he actually means something else. “He gets ready for nap time faster than anyone else.”

Takahiro snorts, and Akira shifts again. “I would, too, if I had nap time.”

“I can relate,” Matsukawa sighs.

Takahiro chews on his bottom lip for a second, considering the two in front of him and Matsukawa’s dark eye circles and _oh, fuck it_. “Look, um—I don’t want to make assumptions about you, but—uh—I’m a single father, and I know this group of other single fathers who meet up once a week and help each other out sometimes, and—you know—I was wondering if—if you’d be interested in—um—”

He doesn’t really know how to finish that sentence, but Matsukawa, his eyebrows raised, comes to his rescue. “That sounds great. I’d love to come meet everyone.”

“Yeah?” Takahiro has no idea why he even asked, and he has even less of an idea of why Matsukawa agreed so easily, but not knowing what’s happening is hardly a new concept for him. “I’m on my way there right now! I mean, you don’t have to come tonight, I know it’s short notice—but you totally could, if you wanted—Kuroo’s always telling us to invite other people—I mean, not that that’s the only reason I—”

Wow. Takahiro’s a lot more sleep-deprived that he thought.

Matsukawa, evidently trying (and failing) to suppress his grin, bends down and picks Yuutarou up. “What do you think, Yuu? You wanna go have dinner with Akira?”

Yuutarou’s eyes go wide and he squeals in delight, and both Matsukawa and Takahiro laugh as they step on the train.

 

* * *

 

Takahiro knows, the instant he steps into the kindergarten, that he’s fucked up somehow.

Akira, instead of hanging out with Yuutarou or napping or any of the things he’s usually doing when Takahiro gets there, is sitting with his arms crossed. He looks terrifyingly like Takahiro’s mother, that time he skipped school and his teacher called her and she sat in the living room for hours waiting for him.

Not that he almost pissed himself when he got home and saw her, or anything.

“I’m so sorry,” Takahiro blurts before Akira could even say anything. When Akira just stares at him, cheeks puffed out in anger, Takahiro looks to Matsukawa pleadingly. “What did I do? I’m so sorry, Akira.”

Matsukawa sighs; he looks like he’s almost smiling, which is extremely unfair. “Akira-chan?” he prompts.

“You forgot to pack my lunch,” Akira says, and Takahiro’s heart sinks even further. “It’s field trip day and we were supposed to bring lunch. Issei-sensei wrote a note for you last week.”

“Oh my God,” Takahiro groans, covering his face with his hands. This is what he gets for being complacent. His schedule is more stable now and he thinks he’s totally getting the hang of it, and this happens. “I’m so sorry, Akira.”

“Issei-sensei brought extra bentos,” Akira says, haughty. “In case _some parents_ forgot.” He gives Takahiro one last glare, just to make sure he really conveyed how annoyed he is. “We had tamago. It was really good.”

Takahiro doesn’t doubt it. Matsukawa has only been to a couple of their potlucks, but he brought tonkatsu one time and it was delicious and clearly made by someone who actually has a handle on this parenthood thing. “Thank you,” he says to Matsukawa, before looking back at Akira and clasping his hands together. “I’m so sorry, Akira. Please please please forgive me?”

Akira eyes him. Even Yuutarou seems amused by this ordeal now, and Takahiro’s insides start to unclench. He’s pretty sure, now, that Akira isn’t actually angry but just enlisted Yuutarou and Matsukawa to intimidate Takahiro. Which is working.

“We can get whatever you want for dinner,” Takahiro adds.

“And you’ll buy me milk candy, and you’ll let me watch any movie I want,” Akira guesses, rolling his eyes. “I know, papa, let’s just get to it.”

Matsukawa snickers into his hand. Takahiro gasps, offended by the betrayal.

 

* * *

 

“How did you know I was a single father?” Matsukawa asks, later, when they’re shopping at the supermarket. “When you first invited me to the—thing.”

Takahiro glances at him, then quickly away, dutifully picking out the milk candy. “It was just a hunch,” he mumbles. “You weren’t wearing a ring.” He glances back at Yuutarou and Akira, both sitting in Takahiro’s cart a few meters away. “You looked tired. _Really_ tired, which—I guess that could have just been the kindergarten teacher thing, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Yaku all look like that, too, so.”

Matsukawa hums. He does that a lot, when they talk. They’ve been spending a lot of time together the past couple weeks, because Takahiro is still pretty much always the last one to pick his kid up, and sometimes—like now—they run errands together afterwards. Takahiro may or may not be surreptitiously checking out what food Matsukawa buys, but also Matsukawa is so easy to talk to, because he always understands, somehow.

“Akira’s my sister’s kid,” Takahiro blurts, when they’re far enough that he knows the kids can’t hear. Matsukawa has kept his nose firmly in his own business, not asking where Akira’s mother is or why they have different family names, but Takahiro _wants_ to tell him, knows that he’ll get it. Probably. “His father died only half a year ago. Yukie—my sister—thinks I’d do a better job raising him. She travels so much that Akira would have to stay with me all the time anyway. But—I mean, I’m a terrible parent, aren’t I?”

“I think you’re doing just fine, actually,” Matsukawa says. He’s still calm, acting like nothing’s out of the ordinary, apparently trying to choose between two different flavors of pocky. “You obviously care about Akira, and you want what’s best for him. That’s a pretty good start.”

Takahiro exhales. Maybe it’s a teacher thing, or the fact that Matsukawa actually looks like he has his life together, but it sounds so convincing from him. “I’m so lucky I have you,” he says, grinning.

“I aim to please, darling,” Matsukawa shoots back with a straight face, dropping both boxes in his basket. He finally looks Takahiro in the eyes, pats him on the shoulder. “No parent starts off knowing what they’re doing, Hanamaki. You’re going to be fine.”

Hanamaki doesn’t know if it’s the _darling_ , or the reassurance, or the physical contact; he just knows that he’s definitely blushing now, and Matsukawa is so _close_.

“I’m hungry,” Yuutarou whines, and they jump apart.

 

* * *

 

Takahiro knows that Akira’s just as excitable as any other child, but he also knows that Akira’s on the shy side, reserved around people he doesn’t know well, unlikely to interact with anyone unless it’s necessary, much less get in a fight.

So when Takahiro sees him with a black eye, he spends a good five seconds trying to comprehend the very idea. Next to Akira, Yuutarou is holding Akira’s hand and crying.

“I’m sorry,” Matsukawa says immediately when Takahiro gets closer. He looks harried, his hair messier than normal; he rubs Yuutarou’s back, trying to soothe him (with limited success). “This is my fault. I should’ve known something was going on.”

“What happened?” Takahiro asks, kneeling down in front of them. The shock and disbelief is quickly being overtaken by concern. The idea of someone hurting Akira made rage burn in the back of his eyes. “Did you get into a fight, Akira? Who was it? Are there kids bullying you? Because I know a—”

“They were making fun of Yuu’s hair,” Akira finally says, scowling.

“Oh no,” Takahiro groans. That makes total sense. “What did you do?”

Akira turns away. “I put salt in their juice.”

“Among other things.” Matsukawa sighs. He runs his hands over his face. “Apparently this has been going on for a couple of weeks.”

“They’re just stupid,” Akira grumbles. “Didn’t find out that I was doing it until today.”

Takahiro thinks of the way Akira acts when he’s dissatisfied with something, the way he kicks the table right as Takahiro sets down the glass to spill the water. “Right.”

“I’m sorry!” Yuutarou finally blurts.

“ _Why_ are you still crying?” Akira demands.

“B-because Akira-chan got hurt because of me!” Yuutarou wails.

Takahiro has to hide his smile as Akira, cheeks pink, snaps at Yuutarou and tells him that it’s not a big deal.

“I told him that the next time this happens, he should just bring it to my attention.” Matsukawa sighs. He still looks out of it, frowning and fidgeting. “I’m not sure he’s going to listen, though.”

Takahiro watches Yuutarou start bawling even louder about how _he got Akira-chan in trouble_ and _he’s a bad friend_ and watches Akira argue _it doesn’t even hurt anymore it’s not Yuu’s fault stop crying_ and says, “Well, did you win the fight?”

Matsukawa gapes at him.

“I dropped the truck on his foot,” Akira mumbles. “And then he just cried.”

Takahiro has to laugh. “I’m proud of you, Akira,” he says, ruffling Akira’s hair despite his protest. “Standing up for your friend is a very brave thing to do. We’ll buy ice cream to celebrate. Yuutarou-kun, do you want some?”

Yuutarou stops crying. Under his hair, Akira smiles, just a little.

 

* * *

 

Takahiro waits for Matsukawa to talk about it. What happened is clearly still bothering him, so Takahiro waits while Yuutarou and Akira pick their ice cream flavors, waits as they squeeze onto the subway, waits as they get to the potluck and everyone greets each other and the food is laid out and Takahiro briefly freaks the fuck out over the cream puffs Sawamura brought while Matsukawa laughs and looks at him with an expression that’s at once warm and soft and unbearably affectionate.

(He’s channeling the patience Matsukawa has shown for him, of course, but putting it that way almost makes it too—too—)

They finally have a quiet moment together, in the kitchen, where Takahiro is jealously guarding the cream puffs and also doing his best to _hold it in, Takahiro, he’ll talk to you when he’s ready, just don’t say anything stupid, don’t—_

“Are you okay?” he blurts, because he does things like that.

Matsukawa sighs, shoulders slumping; he doesn’t seem to notice that Takahiro spoke with half a cream puff in his mouth. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he says, with a sort of guilt Takahiro is incredibly familiar with. “They were bullying my own kid right in front of me, and I didn’t see anything.”

Takahiro, after waiting so long to help and be supportive and everything, panics immediately. “It’s not your fault!” he starts, then realizes how dumb that sounds because when you’re a parent, everything's your fault somehow. “It’s not—I mean, to be fair, you do have a really difficult job; you have to look after so many kids.”

Matsukawa bites his lip. “I was a social worker, before I became a teacher. I adopted Yuu because I wanted to protect him, but—”

Takahiro slides over, so that his side is pressed against Matsukawa’s. “You’re doing your best,” he says. “And, I don’t know, it looked like Yuutarou was more traumatized by Akira’s fight than anything they said to him.”

Matsukawa’s lips twitch; he’s doing that thing again, looking at him with fond eyes. “I’m not sure if I should chastise you for encouraging violence in my classroom or kiss you for stopping Yuu’s crying.”

Takahiro, because he’s still not thinking straight, says, “I’m down for the second option.”

They stare at each other.

(Of course they kiss, and of course Yuutarou comes in at exactly the right time to be scarred for life; of course being a parent meant that they could never get a break ever. Takahiro takes it in stride. The kiss was worth it.)

 

* * *

 

Both of them agreed that, if they want this to be a romantic relationship, they need to talk through it, communicate their expectations, gain a better understanding of each other’s lives. It’s an important conversation, so of course they never quite manage to find the time for it.

“Hey,”  Matsukawa says, settling down next to Takahiro on the park bench. “We should talk.”

Takahiro leans back on his hands. “We should, but I don’t really know how,” he admits. “I’ve never really been in a relationship. As a mature adult, anyway.”

“Neither have I,” Matsukawa says. “These past couple years—Yuu was always more important, you know?”

They watch the kids on the seesaw. Yuutarou seems to be doing most of the work, but Takahiro can tell that they’re both having fun. Akira may even be laughing, a little, even if he’s trying to hide it.

“We’ll figure it out,”  Takahiro promises. “We can take this slowly, there’s no rush. Start small. What are first date topics?”

Matsukawa grins. “Introductions, I guess. Hi, I’m Matsukawa Issei. I’m a kindergarten teacher. What do you do, Hanamaki-san?”

Takahiro laughs. “Well,” he says, and launches into it.

**Author's Note:**

> I really meant for this to be a finals week tradition but as it turns out the minute I consciously make decisions I start failing to execute them, so
> 
> Please feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://cakemoney.tumblr.com) about anything: my grammar, baby Akira and Yuutarou, breakfast
> 
> (Also, I feel like I should insert a disclaimer at some point... I'm not a parent so this portrayal isn't necessarily accurate or anything)


End file.
